by Jenna Kelly
"Lie back," he told her, dragging her head up so that their gazes met.
Her eyes narrowed. Wait a minute! A blowjob was one thing—
***
David was feeling the cold. The night air ruffled his dark hair. But standing outside was the best option considering what was going on in Slade's small office. When his boss appeared at the depot door, then ambled over to him, he realised he'd seen that cheesy expression before. Now he understood why.
The depot owner's trademark loud blue suit and yellow shirt still looked newly pressed, despite the lateness of the hour and the pummelling he'd just taken. David didn't know what had kept him glued to the door for such a long time. But when his hand had begun to stroke his erect cock, he'd known it was time to pull himself away.
Slade greeted him with his familiar lop-sided grin. His trademark gold bracelet fell coldly against David's wrist as they shook hands. "You make all your deliveries today?" he asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
David nodded warily. Always the same question. Slade was a hard taskmaster and he'd never return to base without having completed his duties. He wanted to stay on the right side of his employer. He needed this job, for the time being at least.
"You know me Slade. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be back here."
He glanced at his boss to make sure he hadn't relapsed into one of his notorious bad moods. But Slade was affable enough. So he should, that blonde was pretty hot.
The thin man removed a packet from his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. The gaudy lighter he used to light it was typically Slade. "Ah, yes. We need more workers like you David." Slade eyed the younger man as he blew the thin stream of smoke directly upwards. "You know, if you ever want to increase your take, all you have to do is ask."
His black eyes widened as he extended the invitation. He didn't offer that sort of opportunity to just anyone, only when an employee had gained his full confidence. David realised he had to be careful. Not just with his words, but also with his tone.
"Sorry Slade. I appreciate the invitation - as I always have. But I don't have time to become involved. I'm a delivery man, plain and simple."
The owner laughed. "And you're a very good one at that. You are a fine young man, David. But one of these days, I'll convince you!" He leant over, conspiratorially adding, "And I promise, you'll make much more than you will ever do through your poker games."
David nervously grinned back. He was uneasy but needed to stand his ground. "Thanks, Slade, but—"
His employer's hard, calloused hand took his arm, stopping him before he could speak further. He wasn't going to take no for an answer without pressing the point. "Tonight. I've a job that would be perfect for your skills. Something a man of your build could handle with no problem."
Despite the garlic-flavoured breath in his nostrils, David kept a straight face. "Thanks, Slade, but I have to go watch my girl tonight."
He crumpled the plastic cup he'd been holding; aiming for and hitting the dirty grey waste bin some ten feet away.
Slade's eyes followed the cup into the bin. "Good shot," he whispered. "The girlfriend! How's her singing going? Has she made the big time yet?"
"Not yet, Slade. But soon—"
His employer was no longer listening. "Donna," he shouted, looking over David's shoulder. "Come here."
The young blonde swayed her hips with an obvious exaggeration as she exited through the tiny depot door and walked across to the two men. Her eyes were full of knowing. David felt himself blushing. Her bouncing, naked body was burned in his mind.
"You stay and help with this job tonight," Slade hissed, "and Donna will take care of you afterwards. How's that for a good deal?"
"Mmm," the young woman smiled, her gaze looking directly at David. Her eyes crinkled around the corners. "Or maybe you'd just like to watch me and Slade?"
Slade laughed. "Yeah. Watch. That's a good one."
The blonde raised her eyebrows. Her mischievous eyes never left David's face as it coloured further. They were telling him one thing.
He cursed himself, how the hell had she seen him?
***
Marissa breathed softly as she felt the Greek's big hand ease between her legs. His fingers glided deliciously over the warm, sensitive flanks of her inner thighs. She flopped down on the couch beside her, feeling his surprisingly soft lips on her neck. Involuntarily, she eased her curvy hips forwards, her breathing beginning to quicken.
Whatever Nikolai had in mind, her arousal was so high she'd find it difficult to stop him.
The naked club owner allowed his knuckles to brush against the hot, damp crotch of her damp thong. She couldn't help herself. Despite the discomfort of her position, her long legs opened wider in encouragement.
With a feather-light touch for such a giant, he rubbed his fingers over the black lace protecting her sex. Over and over, tracing the contours of her oiled vulva until she began to pant softly with arousal.
This bastard was experienced in the art of seduction. That much was clear. She knew he'd have her begging for it before too long.
Her nipples jutted like pegs through the thin, green top. Sharp shivers of pleasure ran through her as his gentle fingertips found her clit and stroked the swollen bud through her wet thong.
Her eyes opened. Nikolai' head had moved from her neck and his gaze was fixed on her every expression. She needed this. "Please…" she gasped, opening her legs wider.
His smile widened. The bastard was fully in control. He knew it. He revelled in it. She couldn't help herself. Her hand moved to his forearm, urging him on as he stroked her slippery sex through her increasingly soaking thong. Her mouth let out a whimper.
She moistened her lips with her tongue. Her breath was coming in soft, panting gasps as he kept up the pressure. Maybe he wanted to make her cum before she went down on him? Perhaps he didn't want to fuck her after all?
Her mind twisted in relief and disappointment at the thought.
Oh God! His fingertips had worked under the material, through the blonde hair, and had found the jutting bulb of her clitoris. His circular patterns took her close to orgasm.
"Lift up your top," his voice breathed in her ear.
Her hands rose slowly, yanking the thin top upwards. With only a second's hesitation, she dragged it over her head. Her cleavage pushed against the material of her half lacy, cup bra.
"Good girl," his voice whispered. "Now let me see Marissa's beautiful tits."
The front fastening made it easier for her to release her breasts. They bounced free as she yanked the bra open, trembling gently as they settled after their release. Her aroused eyes looked down at the lewdness of her exposed body. The sight only inflamed her further.
The Greek's mouth sucked in a nipple at the same time as his fingers pressed harder on her engorged vulva.
"Oh, God—"
"You like Nikolai pleasuring you, beautiful Marissa?" he asked, his mouth slithering back to her ear. "Here. Taste."
The fingers left her sex and slid upwards to her mouth. His thigh slid between her legs. She licked eagerly, eager to taste her own juices. As she sucked on one finger, then the other, the panting woman realised that she was moving her lips in tiny, circular motions against the Greek's thigh. She tried to hold still, then immediately started sliding against him again, embarrassed but unable to stop herself.
His fingers pulled away and the Greek replaced them with his mouth. His tongue swam between her lips. She welcomed it in, sucking on it like a cock. His moan excited her further.
His thigh moved from between her humping legs, to be replaced by his hand. It flipped her skirt upwards and gripped the waistband of her flimsy thong. With a violent, tug, he ripped it from her body.
He was going to fuck her!
She thought of her boyfriend. She thought of Vegas. She thought of the thick cock that was sliding against her blonde landing strip. This was wrong. This was dreadfully wrong. It was wonderful, too.
Instead of v
oicing the thought running through her head, she followed the needs of her body. Her long legs opened, spreading across the couch, inviting him in.
"Guide me," he murmured, his voice husky with excitement.
***
Natalie sat quietly in the grubby, small dressing room. Two chairs and a small dressing table filled the room. It was only a few minutes before her performance, but instead of focusing ahead, her mind had drifted back to the barmy summer evening when she and David had first met.
Neither had originally intended attending the charity barbeque. That was fate. They'd watched one another for a while before talking. They'd talked for a while before fucking. That was three years ago. She'd even wondered if he'd be the one she'd marry.
Look at them now.
The early days had been fun. Exciting. For a long period, the sex had been great. Not any longer. Getting together had been so spontaneous. Shortly after their first meeting, they'd searched for a place to share. A tiny, one bedroom London studio was all they could afford. Things would get better, she'd told herself. They hadn't.
She was well aware her voice was special. But success still eluded her. David had made nothing of himself, other than developing a fixation on poker. He dreamt of the World Poker Tour and World Series of Poker, and of rubbing shoulders with the greats – the Brunson's, Chan's, Helmut's and Ivey's of this world, he'd often said.
Whoever the hell they were!
She, on the other hand, lived for her music. Her yearning to make it into the big time was almost an obsession. She wrote as well as performed. Her work was excellent. She knew that. All she needed was a chance. One break. Instead, she was singing at this small club.
Don't knock it, she sighed to herself. Robert, the owner, loved her. So much so, she might have married him had he not been gay.
But success was just around the corner. She had to believe that. Her earlier conversation with Robert had rekindled her hope.
"I'm throwing a party at mine," he'd told her. "You're the guest of honour. Lindsay Wellson will be there. She'll tell you all about what it takes to make it. May even have a few contacts."
Natalie had nervously laughed. Contacts? Was he actually serious? Lindsay Wellson! The country acid house star she'd modelled herself on? What on earth was she doing at Robert's party?
"Don't worry, Natalie," the camp club owner laughed. "All will be revealed in due course!"
***
Marissa whimpered softly with each unhurried thrust. The huge Greek fucked her slowly and effortlessly. Her sleek body was barely able to absorb each long stroke. She lightly squeezed his buttocks, feeling him shiver at the sensation of her long, sharp fingernails pressing on his skin.
Within the first three strokes, she'd experienced her first orgasm. Her second was bubbling. His hairy forearms stretched either side of her head, her defocused eyes savouring each thrust. By locking her feet around his muscular ass, she was able to pull him as deep as he could go. Each time he bottomed out, her climax sneaked a little closer.
"Put your arms around me," he commanded softly.
She slid her slender arms obediently around his immense shoulders. Her Slade, painted fingernails stroked his hairy back as she abandoned herself to the approaching orgasm.
When her hips began to tremble, she tightened her grip around the massive, working shoulders. The Greek was panting heavily above her, rhythmically thrusting back and forth in her hot silk.
Marissa wanted it to go on forever.
It wasn't just the exquisitely overwhelming feeling of fullness as the Greek fucked her. It was the way she was completely submissive, pinned like a butterfly to the couch by his gigantic frame.
His hairy buttocks were hissing against the smooth flanks of her inner thighs. Her feet pulled him closer, encouraging the wonderfully relentless pistoning. He was a fucking machine - back and forth, deep and deeper. She couldn't hold back. The waves of her second climax burst over the shore. Her body shuddered. Her fingernails dug into his thick shoulders.
He turned his head to savour the sight of her orgasm. The hands that slid into her silken, brown hair turned her head to face him. Her dull eyes struggled to focus. Nikolai grinned down at her. A triumphant smile. He'd made her cum again.
She squeezed her internal muscles and his grin turned into a lustful grimace. That wiped the grin from the wonderful bastard's face.
When she squeezed again, his mouth opened. His balls tightened. She knew his orgasm was approaching. She wanted it. Wanted his cum. His thrusts accelerated, imperceptibly at first. Soon they were forcing her open lips to quiver with the effort of absorbing him.
She whimpered as his thrusts quickened. Her feet tightened further. Her curvy hips squirmed beneath his immense torso. She wanted his juice.
"Cum, baby." Her voice was soft, like a mother talking to a child. "Cum for Marissa—"
The huge Greek shuddered to a halt deep inside her. His body straightened like a board. A soft cry of ecstasy escaped his lips. A split-second later, his roar filled the room.
His weight sagged onto her Slade body. He cock continued to gently slide in and out of her as he came in long, thick squirts. His sperm hosed inside her, coating her internal walls.
"Oh, yes," the young model gasped, holding his still shuddering body tightly against her. That had been incredible.
"Well, beautiful Marissa," he eventually breathed, the last of his semen drawn out from his heavy balls. "You've just booked your passage to Vegas."
His long tongue slid back into her soft mouth.
***
The small, serviceable, blue Fiat was bought courtesy of David's Internet poker winnings. A tangible demonstration to Natalie—and himself—that he had what it takes. It didn't seem to make any difference to her. His poker preference was becoming an anathema to his girlfriend. As if she felt it was the cause of their problems.
Unfortunately, their relationship troubles went deeper than that. With a sigh, he pushed them to the back of his mind. There would be plenty of time to dwell on them later.
The hour it had taken to get home, shower, and reach the North London club had passed quickly. As usual, he had to slowly circumnavigate the narrow streets, searching for a parking place. Much to the annoyance of other traffic. The vacant spot a few streets away was ideal and he squeezed into the tight space before hurrying across the cobbled stones.
He was pretty much bang on time.
If the homemade sign around the scruffy looking dog's neck was to be believed, the guy sheltering in a nearby doorway was homeless. Pausing only to drop a few coins into the dirty cap, he hurried inside the club.
As usual, it was alive with people. The atmosphere was always vibrant at 'Bobby's Champagne Lounge.' It was advertised as an escape from the typical London nightlife scene, offering a more refined alternative to the full-on party atmosphere.
That was pretty much spot on.
With the loud tone of hip-hop and techno music supporting the atmosphere, he eased his way through the throng. The neon lights bathed everything in an eerie glow; making it difficult to appreciate the stylish décor that Robert prided himself on.
With just enough time to purchase a beer at the long, backlit, crowded main bar, he collected his drink and sidestepped through the crowds of people gathering around the stage. The closed he got, the more difficult it was to push through the throng, with people unwilling to give way to any interloper. Their reluctance didn't stop him. He wanted a clear view.
Glancing at his watch, he saw his timing was perfect. Eleven o'clock. When the curtains parted, the thin microphone at the front of the empty stage sent a thrill through David. Not long, now. The instruments for the backing band were in place and when the curious backing group of musicians took to the stage, each of them a master in his own field.
The applause as the brown haired woman joined them was deafening. It always was. Natalie had already developed a heavy following, the noise indicating that most of them were present tonight. She
looked incredibly sexy in the tight waistcoat and lacy elbow length white gloves.
The tall and slender brunette didn't have a natural beauty. But a short time in her company had quickly made David appreciate that her sexiness came from within. Her vibrant personality, and up-for-anything attitude, enhanced her attractiveness. Only then did you appreciate the slender body and the perky breasts. The first time David had sampled it had been like unwrapping a Christmas present.
He watched her left hand run through the shiny brown hair and wished he could turn the clock back. Recover the spark that had ignited them three short years ago. Their current problems were a temporary phase, he convinced himself. Success for either would rekindle their relationship.
